


Spitting Bouquets

by Teki



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Flower Sickness, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Graphic Description, Guilt, Hanehaki disease, M/M, Pining, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post S3, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Vomiting, hanehaki, its flowers tho but its p graphic ig, matt's return, post matt's return, post-season 3, shiro is v tired bcz of all the flowwers hes harkin up all the time poor boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teki/pseuds/Teki
Summary: Shiro wakes up one day and starts vomiting flowers on the regular. He enlists the help of Coran and Matt, but things get a bit complicated...“So, what does that mean exactly? That Matt’s return made me so happy that I started literally spewing flowers?”“If you want it simplified to its very core, yes.”~~~~~A Shatt hanehaki fic for my friend Matt on his birthday!!! Happy birthday Mattie!!!





	Spitting Bouquets

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Matt!!! I know it aint the 28th yet in ur timezone but it is here so!!!! I hope u enjoy this fic and that ur day is as awesome as u r!!
> 
> Thanks to everyone in klkl who sprinted w me while i was working on this, and an especially huge thanks to Reese for being a literal angel and betaing for me god bless 
> 
> (the meaning of each flower r in the end notes)

The burn deep in his stomach was familiar by the time he woke up that morning. The hurry he felt and the speed he had in getting out of bed and to the toilet was almost exemplary, considering how absolutely terrible he felt from the moment he opened his eyes. As Shiro knelt down by the toilet seat, he felt as if butterflies with razor blades for wings were inhabiting his insides.

He barely had time to pull up the toilet seat before his body cramped together, knowing too well what exactly was crawling up his throat as he bent over, bracing himself as petals filled his mouth and forced him to part his lips. Once the first flower was out, the rest was a blur of colors and pain.

Shiro’s eyes overflowed with tears as thorns scraped against his throat, gasped for air as leaves and stems clogged his windpipe, retched as salvia-covered buds in full bloom hit the insides of his cheeks, his tongue, his lips, before leaving his body. He could barely see anything through the blur of the tears, the colors of the flowers blending together at the bottom of the toilet bowl.

The first twenty seconds were the worst, lasting an eternity as Shiro vomited a bouquet's worth of flowers, sweat dampening his hair and tears streaking his face. Soon enough, the flowers became smaller, the stems disappeared, and the amount of thorns filling his mouth lessened. By the end of it, Shiro was shaking, clutching at the white porcelain under him as he coughed up the last wet petals left in his hollow stomach.

Finally letting himself relax, he sat down next to the toilet, leaning against the wall. He took a deep breath for the first time in a full minute, and dried the stale tears at the corners of his eyes. It took him a moment before he gathered the strength to pull himself together and stand back up on his shaky legs. There was no need to check what was at the bottom of the toilet bowl as he leant over to flush it all away, Shiro knew the yellow-purple flowers well at this point. He had seen them multiple times a day for weeks now.

He slowly made his way back to his bed and sat down, running a hand through his hair.

He’d had enough.

He’d had enough puking his guts out in the middle of night, rushing to the toilet early every morning, running away from conversations with his friends. He’d at first explained it as if he just had the flu, that he needed rest. Everyone had accepted it, and it was easier for Shiro to stay in his room all day since he couldn’t fly the black lion anymore. He didn’t want to make his team worry about him any more than they already had while he was gone. They had enough to think about.

But it had grown worse and worse over time, the flowers had grown bigger and bigger. It became harder to breathe. It became harder to hide. He didn’t even know why he was hiding it at this point, it was stupid and unsafe. Whatever it was, it could be contagious, it could put the other paladins in danger, it was not a risk worth taking.

With a groan, he pushed himself off the bed and made his way out of his room. He needed to talk to Coran.

He found the ginger Altean at the command deck, talking to the newest addition to their team, Matt.

Pidge had found Matt during a solo-mission. Or, according to Pidge, Matt had found her. He had apparently heard of her deeds as a paladin of Voltron, put two-and-two together, and come for her. He had become part of a rebel group that was more than willing to help support Voltron and their cause, and so Matt had come to the Castle to act as a representative.

Shiro had cried when he first saw Matt step out of the green lion. Matt didn’t cry until Shiro had him in his arms, until they were hugging as if they couldn’t believe the other was real. Shiro hadn’t felt that relieved in ages, and he could see the two Holts’ felt the same, both smiling with tears streaming down their faces.

Matt, Pidge and Shiro had spent hours in the common room alone that day, just talking. They all had so much to say to each other. Matt would call them the names he had used back on Earth: Katie and Takashi. Every time he said their names, Pidge and Shiro would share a look, knowing how the other felt. It was nostalgic to both of them, all their teammates called them Pidge, or Shiro. In this way, Matt represented a past they all missed, and there was a silent agreement between the two paladins to not attempt to change Matt’s nicknames for them.

That night was the first night the flowers had hit the bottom of Shiro’s toilet. He had left the two Holts to themselves that day, knowing he’d have more than enough time to speak with Matt, now that he was safe. Once he had gotten back to his room and laid down in his bed, overcome with joy, he had felt the prickling nausea that soon would become familiar to him.

He’d spoken to Matt a few times after that, but each time Shiro got nauseous and had to cut the conversation short.

Now he was standing there, with Coran, and Shiro had clearly cut off their conversation with his entrance. Suddenly Shiro felt a bit nervous, he didn’t want Matt to know but he really needed to talk to Coran, to see if the older man knew anything.

“Hey ‘Kashi, you’re up early,” Matt said, with a smile. All Shiro could do was nod. It had been forever since he had heard that nickname, yet the brunet said it with such ease. It made his insides churn. When said insides didn’t stop churning, and a wave of nausea hit Shiro again, he knew it wasn’t the nickname that had made him feel uneasy. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, he just needed to pull Coran away so they could talk.

“Did you want anything, my boy?” There Coran was, already knowing something was up. He was ridiculously good at seeing if any of his friends were troubled. Shiro did his best to swallow the oncoming heat crawling up his skin.

“Yes, actually, Coran, could I—“

Just as Shiro tried to speak, the flowers shot up through his throat and out his mouth again. He barely had time to bend over and turn away.

“Oh my god, Takashi!”

It didn’t stop this time, not for a long while. It didn’t stop as Shiro doubled over while puking his guts worth of flowers, it didn’t stop as Matt hurried over to hold him, it didn’t stop as he felt Matt’s soothing hands on his back, whispering sweet, comforting words into his ear. It made Shiro’s face heat up as the flowers wracked their way through his body, a wave stronger than the last one forcing it’s way out his mouth. All he could do was do his best to not fall over as his lungs burned at the lack of air, slumped over as rivers of flowers, petals, and leaves covered the floor under him.

It went on for five minutes, big waves of him harking up flowers with little to no time to breathe between each round. Matt rubbed his hands in soothing circles on Shiro’s back, and when he felt a cool cloth wipe the sweat off his forehead, he realized Coran was there, supporting his weight. He could hear them speak, to him and each other, but his mind was too muddled to really register what they were saying. This had by far been the longest, and worst, round of… whatever this was, that he’d experienced yet.

By the end of it, he was shaking, heaving for air, his exhaustion forcing him to give in to the Castle’s manufactured gravity. Luckily, Coran was there to catch him.

“Woah there, my boy. I know you’re tired but I think it’s time for us to go to the medical bay and do some scans, don’t you agree?”

All Shiro could do was nod weakly.

The trip to the medical bay was short, Coran supporting him the whole way, while Matt kept a warm hand on his back. Nausea washed over Shiro with every move he made, yet he willed himself through it. Soon enough, they were there. He groaned when Coran helped him sit down on one of the futuristic-looking chairs placed along the wall, but sat quietly and watched as the older man brought up a screen to check Shiro’s condition.

Matt stood next to him, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the screen over Coran’s shoulder with a worried expression. Shiro could see him talking, could see they were discussing whatever showed on that screen, but he couldn’t focus enough to understand what they were saying. Rather, he focused on that worried expression, on Matt, despite the strongest wave of nausea hitting him as he did. He fought it, unable to look away from Matt. Matt, who had helped him through the Garrison. Matt, who had been by his side when the Galra took them, who had comforted him through the worst nights. Matt, who had been taken away from him, who he had to leave behind. Matt, who finally came back to him.

Shiro’s heavy breathing drew Matt’s attention away from Coran’s check-up. Their eyes met, and Shiro could feel his blood go icy-cold. He was the reason Matt was so worried, he was the reason the brunet’s eyebrows was furrowed together, the reason those arms were crossed, the reason his whole body was tense. Shiro hated it. He hated knowing Matt had changed since they saw each other last, hated knowing it was his fault. He ignored the new scar over his eyebrow, ignored how much easier it was to find Matt staring out a window, deep in thought,  _ tried _ to ignore the muscles that were more defined now than before, though that was definitely the most difficult one.

Whenever Shiro saw Matt, he felt guilty. He felt guilty for leaving him, for not being able to protect him, for  _ still feeling his own heartbeat pick up whenever they locked eyes _ . But he couldn’t look away.

It took him a moment to realize that Matt’s mouth was moving, that he was speaking to him. Or trying to, anyway.

“—iro? Hey, Shiro are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah…” Shiro managed to get out between heavy breaths. “Just a bit… Tired.”

“Well, I won’t take much more of your time Shiro, you just need to answer a few questions,” Coran said as he looked up from his screen. “How long have you been experiencing these… Flowery-outbursts?”

“Please don’t call it that,” Matt managed to say before Shiro answered the question.

 

“I don’t know, for a couple of weeks now, I think.”

Coran stroked his mustache thoughtfully.

“Hmm, yes, I see,” he looked down at the screen, seemingly writing something down. “Were there any major changes that happened around then?”

“I mean, things have been changing every day since we became paladins. No day is the same,” Shiro tried to laugh a bit, but his exhaustion shone through, and each intake of breath hurt.

“I joined the team.”

Two pair of eyes immediately went to the brunet standing silently, deep in thought.

“Huh?”

“It’s been about two weeks since I found Katie and she brought me here. Two weeks since I joined the team.”

Silence filled the medical bay as Matt’s words sunk in. Coran looked at the brunet with surprise, and Matt stared right back at him. Shiro had some problems with processing what had been said along with dealing with the pain. He grunted a bit as he did his best to straighten up.

“So, what does that mean exactly? That Matt’s return made me so happy that I started literally spewing flowers?”

“If you want it simplified to its very core, yes,” Coran said, which left Shiro sitting with an uneasy feeling.

“Why-- I mean, how?”

“Well, it’s not an uncommon phenomenon, back on Altea it was thought to be a certain kind of sickness, the Hua disease. Teenagers and young-adults were more susceptible for getting it, and since the flowers grew in the respiratory system… Well, the survival-rate wasn’t the highest.”

“I thought Altea was a beacon for technological advancement back in it’s time,” Matt stated. “Weren’t you able to figure out a cure?”

“It’s hard to mix technology and emotions, and this disease fed off of people's emotions. It took a long time before the cure was even close to finished, and when it was, well… There wasn’t much left to use it on, let’s leave it at that.”

“But there  _ is _ a cure?” Matt urged on.

“Yes,” Coran answered. “There should be. Though I’d have to go back in our archives and research if I were to attempt anything on Shiro.”

“I’m right here,” Shiro said, coughing weakly into his hand. Matt was quick to his side, even more worried now than earlier, if that was possible. It made Shiro’s heart ache. He pushed his feelings, and the nausea, to the back of his mind as he shifted his attention to Coran. “I still don’t quite get it. Would any sort of strong feelings be sufficient for this disease?”

“No. I don’t… Think so? As I said, I’ll have to do some more research into this, old Altean diseases were never my… expertise.”

With that, a plan was formed. Coran would see if he could find any more information on Shiro’s condition, while Shiro would stay in bed and relax as much as possible during the wait. Matt used most of his free-time helping Coran or tending to Shiro, which made things both worse and better.

When Matt was around, Shiro would have rounds of harking up petals more often, but that was about it. At most there would be a few flower crowns, some petals and leaves, but it never got as bad as it had been that night. When Matt was gone though, Shiro could spew up hundreds of flowers with stems and thorns for many minutes.

At first, Matt had lightly joked about Shiro making bouquets for him and the rest of the paladins.

He’d stopped making those jokes after the time he walked into Shiro’s room only to find him shivering on the floor, cold with sweat and laying atop a bed of flowers, bigger than the muscular man himself. When Matt had helped him up to his feet so he could walk him to the bathroom, Shiro had smirked weakly and said “There’s your bouquet.” Matt had laughed, though horrified at the remark, and he made sure to never even mention bouquets again.

Shiro didn’t see the rest of his teammates much during this time. Apparently, Coran and Matt had convinced the others that he’d gotten some sort of alien virus that required he were left alone to rest a lot, which were as close to the truth as they could get without giving specific details. Keith would still visit him every now and then, sit on the other side of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, and Shiro was able to not produce any plant-like substance while he was there. Lance would sometimes speak through the door, Hunk would leave food for him outside and he could now and again hear Pidge saying goodbye to Matt as he stepped through the door, assuming she’d followed him. They were good at not waking suspicion, though Shiro wondered how Matt managed to discard so many flowers at once as he did.

Things were fine, to the extent they could be fine, for a time. It didn’t go too many days until Coran snuck into Shiro’s room, at most a week, though Shiro wasn’t sure as time had blurred together thanks to him lying in bed all day fighting the urge to vomit flowers.

Flowers, which changed colors after the night on the command deck with Matt and Coran. Before, every flower and petal that came out of his body had been the familiar purple-and-yellow heart’s ease. Now, however, there were a mix of different flowers. Matt had helped him identify them, as his mother had always had a passion for flowers and gardening. There were the white Gardenias’, Shiro’s favorites. There were some purple-pink Gloxinias, along with light blue flowers that Shiro recognized as forget-me-nots. After Matt mentioned that his favorite flowers were primroses and violets, Shiro started spewing those up too. They had both been a bit unsettled by this.

Coran had come in after Matt had left for the night. Shiro had been in bed, back against with his duvet over him as he struggled to breathe, when the door had opened. It took a moment before the ginger-haired Altean had rolled in. He had actually taken a somersault through the open door, as if in some sort of B-rate spy-movie, and it would have been funny had Shiro not been in so truly exhausted.

He watched as Coran quickly stood up in one of the silly poses he’d do if he had been surprised and thought he’d have to fight something, the door closing behind him. Then the two locked eyes, and Coran had been quick to shuffle out of his pose to stand awkwardly a few meters away from the bed, with Shiro smiling weakly.

“Any news?”

“Uh, yes. I’ve spent every free moment reading up on all saved research from Altea, along with any similar diseases from other planets we had in our archives. Before I get to the cure, there are a few things you should know.”

“It can’t get much worse, can it? Fire away Coran.”

“Well...” Coran sighed as he moved closer, sitting down on the bed. “You most likely first got it while visiting a foreign planet. Three of the ones we’ve visited have documented cases of the Hua disease. On one planet it transmits via the pollen of an especially rare flower, on one it’s a virus, and on the third one it’s a chronic disease that every 5 th child is born with, and dies from within the age of 20. I’m relatively sure you got the pollen in you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Yes, quite gruesome. The Singhae race aren’t mammals, like us. Imagine waiting for your 15 eggs to hatch while knowing that, statistically, 3 of your children won’t make it past their earlier years.” Coran sighed while shaking his head sadly, but he was quick to regain his composure as he continued talking. “Oh well, anyway, the pollen in your lungs. It can exist for months, even years, within a carbon-based creature’s systems with no symptoms, hard to detect but durable. Which is why the Castle’s decontamination system didn’t catch it. The pollen is triggered by a very specific emotion, which makes flowers grow. The flowers grow until they are forcefully removed from the body, leaving more pollen behind, and it becomes this cycle. It’s really fascinating, you see, the flowers do this becau--”

“Right, Coran, I have two questions,” Shiro said, his raspy voice interrupting Coran. “First, what kind of emotion is it this pollen need for it to start growing, and, second, what do we have to do to make it stop growing?”

Coran paused at this, and looked at Shiro, almost pitifully.

“The pollen responds to romantic love, or desire. Not lust, necessarily but…” Coran waved his hands around a bit, obviously having a hard time finding words. “… You know? The planet that this plant originates from believes in soulmates, and this flower has a big part in that. It is thought that whomever makes you feel strongly enough to make the pollen bloom, must be your chosen one, your… destiny, so to speak.”

Shiro’s flabbergasted expression told Coran more than enough, so much so that it made the older man nod solemnly while crossing his arms over his chest as he continued speaking.

“I know. Though, not all hope is lost. There are two ways to rid yourself of the blooming flower. The most common one is to confess to the one your heart desires, and hope they accept. This is a 50/50 chance, even on the origin planet. Though the person might be your soulmate, you may not necessarily be theirs. If they reciprocate your feelings, the flower will bloom one last time, using all the pollen in your lungs, without leaving any behind. This way, you’ll be rid the flower and have gained a partner.”

“And the second option?” Shiro swallowed harshly, irritating his already-sore throat even more.

“A surgical operation. It is extensive and taxing, but I believe I can do it, given the time and tools necessary, if you’d rather go that route. Though, the removal of the pollen this way also has the side-effect of removing any and all romantic feelings you’re feeling toward the person who made the flower bloom in the first place. To date there is no record of a host of the pollen falling for the same person post-surgery. You’d be giving up nearly all attachments to Ma—this person.”

Shiro said nothing. He couldn’t. They both knew who the cause for this pollen blooming was. The cause had said it himself. Shiro hadn’t felt these emotions as strongly since last time he saw him, and they had hit him hard when they saw each other again. Given the pollen had already been in Shiro by then…

Yet Shiro couldn’t fathom the thought of not feeling like this for Matt. He had admired him since he first met him, back at the Garrison. The brunet was smart, funny, and sarcastic. He was easy-going with a knack for getting serious when he needed to.

Shiro harked up another primrose. Suddenly something in him clicked.

Oh.

“Oh.”

Every time he’d done as much as harked up a petal to letting rivers of flowers out of him, he had thought about Matt. He’d… Felt those feelings.

He let his head fall to his hands for support as he groaned.

“Oh my god…”

He felt a pat on his shoulder, and Coran’s voice as a weight lifted off of the bed. “Well, I’ll leave it up to you. Just… tell me, if you need me to read up on the surgical procedure.”

“I will, thank you…” He heard footsteps, and then the door opening. Just then, a thought popped into his head, and he looked up at the older man about to step out of the room. “Hey, Coran. What’d happen if I chose to do neither?”

Coran stopped, and looked at Shiro from where he stood. “Well, at some point the flowers grow so quickly and take up so much space that your lungs are unable to take in air properly for long periods of time… I’m – I’m sure you can guess what happens then.”

“I can,” Shiro sighed. “Thanks again Coran.”

“No problem my boy, and… Good luck.”

With that, Coran was out of the room, the doors closing behind him, and Shiro was left to his own thoughts.

It didn’t take long for exhaustion to get the better of him though, and Shiro dozed off sitting up against the wall. He slept for the rest of the night, until the next morning, and far into the day. He slept until Matt came to his room, and sat down by his side. He woke up to the brunet shaking his shoulder lightly and saying his name with a soft voice.

“’Kashi? Hey, ‘Kashi, you awake? I brought you some food, you should really eat something.”

The first thing Shiro’s body did that morning, aside from his face heating up and his heart running amok in his chest, was produce 3 large fully-bloomed flowers, a white gardenia, a purple gloxinia, and a white violet. Matt was used to it by now, and helped him through it. Afterwards, he helped him eat some soup Hunk had made for him.

Once Shiro had eaten all he managed, Matt helped him settle into bed properly so he could relax, and emptied out the bucket that stood by the bed and collected flowers and petals. When he came back, he climbed into bed and sat down next to Shiro, atop the duvet, back against the wall, with his legs over Shiro’s torso and a book in his hands. Shiro didn’t mind the pressure, it seemed to help fight off the nausea, somewhat.

They had found a peace in spending their afternoons like this, just enjoying each other's company as Shiro did his best to relax, drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes they’d talk, but mostly Shiro had had enough with just breathing. Today was different though, today Shiro had a lot to think about.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, too preoccupied with his own thoughts, but eventually Shiro made a decision. His mind now set, he slowly reached over to where Matt was sitting, and grabbed his wrist. Matt looked up from his book with a surprised look as Shiro pulled him out of his sitting position and closer to him. He was weak, it’d be easy for Matt to pull away, to resist, but he didn’t. He let himself be pulled along, leaving the book behind him on the bedsheet.

Things didn’t go entirely as Shiro’s exhausted mind planned though, as Matt ended up on all fours atop of him, staring down at him with a shocked expression. Shiro didn’t take long to change his plan however, letting go of the brunet's’ wrist in favor of wrapping his arms around the other’s neck and pulling him down for a hug. Matt was compliant, almost oddly so, as Shiro buried his face in the base of his neck, taking a deep breath. He could feel Matt’s weight atop of him, could feel his hand stroking his hair in a comforting motion, could feel the unfamiliarly defined muscles that nobody would expect on such a small frame. A pang of sadness and guilt shot through him as he remembered why Matt had become so muscular, remembered how much softer he had been before Kerberos. He tightened his grip around Matt, afraid that if he let go now he’d never have the other this close ever again.

“I’m in love with you.”

Some part of Shiro was glad he couldn’t see Matt’s expression, because he could certainly feel his body tense up. It was quiet for a while, and Shiro could feel his own heartbeat speed up. Slowly, Matt started pulling away, and Shiro was too nerve-wracked to really do any resistance, not that he would.

Their eyes met, and a thought about how beautiful Matt’s eyes were passed through Shiro’s mind. Then he noticed Matt’s smile, the way his whole expression had changed from shocked, to neutral, to snarkily smug in half a second, and Shiro knew what was coming.

“About time you said it.”

That… was not what Shiro had expected.

“Wait, what? You knew?”

“Yeah, kind of hard not to when you kept spewing love-flowers whenever I was around.”

“What – what do you mean?”

“Flower language? Takashi, come on, every flower I ever saw come out of your mouth was basically a flower saying ‘I love you and I’m a big dumb gay’.”

“How do you—“

“My mom is really into gardening, remember? She loves the flower language, would make bouquets with secret meanings for my dad all the time, even when she was mad. She’s… a rather passive aggressive woman.”

Shiro’s dumbfound expression made Matt laugh. “Oh, come on ‘Kashi, I even told you about those  _ exact _ flowers back at the Garrison, remember?”

He had to think extra hard about it, but now that Matt was talking about it, Shiro did indeed remember sitting up late with Matt, discussing flowers.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, that was  _ my _ way of saying ‘I love you and I’m a big dumb gay’, though you didn’t really get it.”

“Oh my god, Matt, I’m so sorry—“

“Shut up and kiss me, dumbass,” Matt laughed.

And Shiro did.

The kiss was perfect in every way, even Matt’s laugh couldn’t stop the absolute glee Shiro was feeling. Matt’s lips were soft and warm, and his hands were in Shiro’s hair the second their lips met. Shiro’s arms moved down Matt’s back, and rested on his hips as they both finally got what they had been waiting for, pining for, for years now.

Then Shiro ruined it by vomiting flowers for the last time, though it was the worst wave he had though the entire ordeal. It lasted longer, produced more flowers, and hurt worse than any other wave he’d had. But it was entirely worth it, as they made sure all the flowers ended up on the floor, leaving the bed free for them to stay in after. They spent the rest of the day in that bed, cuddling, Shiro kissing Matt whenever he thought he was dreaming, which was way too often.

They didn’t leave that room until breakfast the next morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Flowers mentioned in this fic & their meaning in victorian flower language:
> 
> PRIMROSE - I Can't Live Without You  
> VIOLET (White) - Let's Take a Chance on Happiness  
> GARDENIA - You're Lovely: Secret Love  
> FORGET-ME-NOT- True Love; Memories  
> GLOXINIA - Love at First Sight  
> HEART'S EASE - I am thinking of you
> 
> Again, happy bd Matt!! I hope u enjoyed!!


End file.
